Page 80 of Fangs
His arm tightened around me. “I’m ok, Shortcake.”
“I’m so scared somethin’ is gonna happen to you, and I won’t be able to heal you.”
“If it does, I need you to know it won’t be your fault.”
“That isbullshit?—”
“No, listen to me,” he turned to face me, gripping my shoulders tightly. There was no trace of humor in his gaunt face. “If I die, and you can’t save me, I’m absolvin’ you of any guilt.”
“You can’t?—”
“Ican,and if you insist on blaming yourself, Iwillhaunt you.” A tiny glint of playfulness appeared.
“At least you’d still be here,” I mumbled, thinking of the silence at Trey’s grave.
“You say that now,” he countered, grinning. “Might change your mind after my ghost knocks all those tiny little bottles off the hutch every damn day.”
“Sam, just, please...please promise to tell me if you feel like you’re gettin’ worse?”
He studied me, his face going serious again.
“Please, Sam?” My voice trembled.
He sighed. “Alright, I can promise that.”
We stood in silence for a while longer, just watching the horses. I tried to rein in my fear, but it struck me like a bolt of lightning how terrified I was to lose Sam. I took a deep, shuddering breath and wrapped my arm around his waist, trying to keep myself from clinging to him.
“You can call me ‘Emmy’…if you want,” I whispered. “Dune used to call me that.”
He rested his chin on top of my head, and I could hear his smile. “You tryin’ to get rid of ‘Shortcake’?”
A small smile crossed my face. “I don’t mind ‘Shortcake.’”
“Hey!”
We both looked up to see Griz striding toward us. He was studying us carefully, but his voice was casual, as though I hadn’t just dumped over a decade of horror on them.
“You two want to come to the canteen for dinner? Bell’s about to ring.”
They’d been inviting me to dinner for months, and I always said no. But I did not want to sit in the clinic by myself—or worse, alone with Wolf and his crew.
“Sure,” I said.
“I’ll bring you—” Griz started before his eyes snapped to my face, full of surprise. “Wait, did you say yes?”
I nodded, unable to resist the slight smile curling over my lips.
“Apple is gonna lose it,” Griz warned with an answering grin. “She doesn’t know you woke up yet.”
“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Sam cackled.
13
Apple was standing outside the canteen with some other kids, all gathered around Leda and talking a mile a minute. Griz let out a whistle, and Apple turned toward us. When she noticed me, her mouth dropped open, her face visibly paling. I picked up my pace, nervous she was about to faint, but then she burst into tears and charged toward us. I crouched so I could catch her as she barreled into me, her little arms wrapping tightly around my neck.
“Bones!” she sobbed. “I thought you were gonna die!”
My eyes prickled at her distress. “I’m okay, Apple. I’m okay.”
